


Windows to the Soul

by Pixial



Series: McHanzo Week 2017 [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackwatch Era, Blood and Gore, McHanzo Week, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixial/pseuds/Pixial
Summary: “Please, my brother,” said the man. Jesse drew his gun and bit the inside of his cheek as he realized the man was barely older than him. “My brother,” he repeated, eyes still staring forward, almost past Jesse. Jesse felt trapped by those eyes. They dragged him in, tugging him down into an empty void that pierced his very being. “Please help him. I think he’s dying.”McCree learns to never wish for excitement during stake-outs.





	1. Stained

The estate was quiet. _Too_ quiet thought the lone agent currently on watch duty. So far, the night was shaping up to look like _literally every other night_. The agent shifted restlessly from his tiny apartment room across the street. He and his fellow Blackwatch agents had been staked outside the Shimada castle for three weeks, and they’d gained _nothing_.

“Agent McCree, status report.” Jesse nearly fell out of the window he was leaning on as his communicator crackled to life.

“All’s quiet, ‘n’ I’m bored as hell,” he replied. There was an ominous silence on the other end of the line, and after a beat, he added, “Commander.” He could practically hear Reyes’ teeth grinding from here. “Seriously, though. There ain’t nothin’ I can see from here. I don’t se… Hang on, somethin’s up.” 

Jesse grabbed his binoculars to get a closer look as a handful sleek, black cars drove up to the gate of the castle. Why was it all these gang-types had black cars? Was it some sort of rule? He wondered what’d happen if one of them dared to drive something more sporty. Maybe they’d get kicked out or something. “Boss, they’re meeting. Looks like all the big bosses are here.”

“Keep me updated. Don’t take any risks.”

“Yessir.” Jesse saluted though he knew perfectly well Reyes couldn’t see him. It annoyed his commander, but it was a hard habit to break. He settled in to actually do his job for once, wishing that they’d actually been able to put some bugs _inside_ the place. As it was, all he could do is glean information from the grounds and hope he’d get lucky.

Unfortunately, luck was never on his side. The men exited their cars and headed straight for what Jesse thought was some sort of shrine. There was a sense of purpose to their walk, so whatever was going down was something _big_. The last man getting out of his car had a hulking brute of a guard with him, torn sleeves and everything. There was something slung over his shoulder, and when he turned to follow his boss, Jesse gasped as he made out a limp human form. 

“Shit they’ve got a hostage,” he breathed. “What do I do?”

“You stay where you are,” came the immediate response. Jesse opened his mouth to argue, but Reyes cut him off. “I’m serious McCree. Wait for backup. We don’t even know who that is. Could be some inner rivalry.” 

“Fine,” Jesse grumbled, but Reyes was right. Reyes was _usually_ right. There was a time that Jesse would’ve taken Reyes’ advice and told him where to shove it, but that was about six or seven near-death experiences ago. If Reyes wanted him to wait for backup, he would. 

Or at least that was his plan until everything apparently went to hell. Something _erupted_ with a flash of bright, electric-blue light and a near-animalistic roar. That alone was enough to make Jesse bolt upright, but then the _screaming_ began.

Now Jesse had seen a lot of men die. In fact, he’d killed them in the first place. He _knew_ what death screams sounded like. This was worse than anything he’d ever heard before. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he listened to a chorus of voices scream before being cut short as a single voice ran on and on, raw and harsh with rage and heartbreak. That was a scream Jesse had only heard once in his life, when it’d torn its way straight from his throat. And through it all, the roaring continued, almost in concert with the raging voice. 

After what felt like years, everything stopped. The light faded and everything went quiet as the grave. The silence was unnerving after the chaos, and Jesse felt shaken and deaf. Something pounded in his skull, and it took him far too long to realize it was his commander trying to reach him.

“JESSE! REPORT!”

Jesse put his finger to the communicator, swallowing as he gripped his gun with his free hand, trying to will some calm into his stuttering heartbeat. “I-I don’t know, Boss. Something just… I’m gonna check it out.”

“Wait, McCree, we don’t know--”

“Boss, I think someone’s dead. Or hurt.”

Reyes was quiet for a moment, and Jesse thought he was probably working on not trying to metaphorically strangle him until he spoke again. “Alright. But for _fuck’s_ sake be careful. Backup’s on the way.”

“Understood, sir. … Thank you.” And with that, Jesse moved as quickly as he can, practically jumping down the stairs before bolting out the door and across the street. The gate was shut, but there was a tree taller than the wall that just begged to be climbed. A scan across the grounds showed nothing but deathly stillness and a sense of something horribly wrong. The sense grew stronger as Jesse dropped down into the courtyard and nothing immediately shot at him.

He made his way to the shrine as quickly as he could and still technically being stealthy. Urgency or not, he had no interested in gaining another scar from a bullet. Reyes would have his ass on a silver platter if he got hurt _again_. He paused as he drew close to the building, unease trickling down his back as he saw a lump in a dark pool outside the door. He gulped and took a closer look.

“Aw hell…” he whispered as the metallic scent of blood smacked into his nose. Whatever was in the pool _used_ to be part of a human body wrapped in a grey suit, but he couldn’t tell what it was beyond that. He had _not_ signed on for this. Undercover, semi-illegal taskforce work, sure. But this was way above his paygrade.

Which, of course, is why he couldn’t stop himself from edging into the building.

Fear slammed his heart in his chest as he examined what looked like a scene out of a B-rated carnage horror flick. There was blood splattered _everywhere_ , practically dripping from the ceiling. Body parts littered the floor and-- Oh God was that someone’s _ear_? How the fuck did an ear get that high up on the _wall_? Jesse froze with a whimper in his throat. He didn’t want to be here. He wished Reyes or Ana was here, or hell, he’d even take Commander Morrison. They’d be able to handle this. Surely they’d know what to do!

His eyes continued to take in the horrific view, widening further as he realized something he should’ve realized sooner. He wasn’t alone. There was a man sitting on the floor in the middle of the shrine, covered in gore and holding a mostly-intact corpse. At first, Jesse thought the man was dead himself and just frozen in rigor mortis. And then his eyes opened. And stared straight at Jesse. And the corpse in his arms _moaned_.

_“Please, my brother,”_ said the man. Jesse drew his gun and bit the inside of his cheek as he realized the man was barely older than him. _“My brother,”_ he repeated in a rasping voice, eyes still staring forward, almost past Jesse. Jesse felt trapped by those eyes. They dragged him in, tugging him down into an empty void that pierced his very being. _“Please help him. I think he’s dying.”_ Jesse’s grip on his gun tightened as the Shimada shuddered and cried out before slumping over his brother.

“Oh God…” Jesse’s voice shook as he pressed a hand to his communicator. “Boss… Forget backup. We need a paramedic. Several paramedics.”

oOo

When all was said and done, Jesse _knew_ he’d have nightmares about literally everything. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the Shimada man’s empty, tortured eyes staring straight into what Jesse’s overactive imagination felt was his soul. He’d never seen anyone so… So… _Broken_. It was as though all the joy those eyes had ever known had faded along with his brother. It was haunting, and Jesse had to force himself to shove it to the back of his mind so he could work.

Backup had arrived with a medical team in tow headed by none other than the actual angel Dr. Angela “Mercy” Ziegler herself. Jesse breathed a huge sigh of relief as he caught sight of her Valkyrie suit’s glow enter the building. She hurried past him with a gasp of shock, headed straight for the passed out duo at the center of the mess. Or at least he hoped they were just unconscious. 

He wanted to step forward and offer assistance, but he wasn’t a doctor. Hell, he wasn’t even a high school graduate. There wasn’t much he could do but watch. A hand, heavy and warm clasped his shoulder, startling him and drawing his attention from Mercy ordering her people about far too calmly for such a flurry of activity. Jesse looked up to meet his commander’s face and was filled with a reassurance that Reyes would roll his eyes at if Jesse tried to describe it.

“Report, Agent McCree,” he said, all purpose and professionalism despite the comforting hand on his shoulder and the quiet question in his eyes. Jesse nodded slightly; he was fine. Shaken, but he’d been through worse.

“I was monitoring the Shimada estate, as ordered, sir,” Jesse said, relieved at being able to hide behind a professional mask for a while. “There was a meeting that gathered in a shrine, followed by some sort of explosion. When all went dead--” Poor choice of words, he thought to himself with a wince-- “I went to investigate. And found…” Here he floundered, gesturing around him. “This? Boss, I don’t know what happened, but it was _bad_. There’s one survivor, maybe two? But…”

Reyes shook his head, squeezing his shoulder. “I get the picture. Stick close; Strike Commander’s on his way, and he’ll want to hear your report as well.” Jesse nodded quietly, for once skipping his opportunity to make a face at the mention of the head of Overwatch. He liked the guy fine, but he seemed way too good to be true. In his experience, someone that perfect had a rotten core in the middle. ‘Course, Reyes would probably have his head if he said that out loud. 

Reyes squeezed his shoulder once more before stepping away to converse with Mercy. Jesse took a moment to rest against a pillar outside, turning his back on the crime scene. It was going to be a long night.

Hours and three reports and a flight out of Japan later, Jesse finally staggered into his room back on base, drained beyond all reason. Morrison had been unbelievably gentle about his questioning, and Jesse wondered if that was a usual thing or if he, too, had been subdued by the horror. He’d practically ordered Jesse onto the plane and to get some rest once he’d gotten all he needed. Jesse had almost been too exhausted to catch sight of the indulgent shake of Reyes’ head as he heard that. If he hadn’t been so bone-tired, he’d have wondered at that and why it was usually centered on Jack Morrison.

As it was, it didn’t matter. He was done with thinking and wondering for one night. At least he was too tired to have any nightmares for once, he realized as he sank down into darkness. A silver lining, at least.

oOo

 

When Jesse awoke the next morning, he felt like the dead. If there was any justice in the world, Reyes would give him the day off. Unfortunately, late nights and busy days were something of a staple in Blackwatch, and so with a groan, he stretched and dragged himself out of bed and got dressed.

There was already a report and set of orders waiting on his tablet when he made his way to the mess hall, which he read over something vaguely resembling oatmeal. The report was more debriefing of the night before, and the orders found him making his way to Reyes’ office for more information in person. Odd, that. Usually his part would’ve been done by now.

He thought about that as he knocked on the commander’s door. Had he done something wrong? Or did they need him to talk about it fresh again? Lord, he hoped not. He was _done_ reliving that awful moment.

The door opened to admit him, and he blinked in surprise as he saw Morrison standing in front of him instead of his boss. Fortunately before his mouth could react and say something stupid, he caught sight of Reyes sitting at the desk with a tablet in front of him. 

“Don’t stand there with your jaw hanging open,” Reyes said, with just the barest hint of a smirk on his face. “Come in.” 

Jesse brushed passed Morrison with a quiet excuse and stood in front of the desk, feeling for all the world like a kid in the principal’s office. He’d fucked up, insisted a tiny, panicking voice deep inside. That’s why Morrison was here. He’d screwed something _royally_ and he was about to get the boot or sent to prison. He tried his best to stamp out the increasingly hysterical thread of thought before it could show on his face. He must not have succeeded because Reyes rolled his eyes and shook his head as Morrison leaned against the desk beside him. 

“You’re not in trouble, kid. Calm down and have a seat.” He pressed a key on his tablet as Jesse complied, and a resulting ding sounded from his pocket. “I’ve just sent you a file, and we need to go over it.”

Jesse pulled the screen out and thumbed over to the file. Inside was a bunch of technical jargon and a photograph of a pair of young men posed together in some sort of Japanese robes. Jesse took an immediate liking to the one with green hair and an impish smile on his face. Now _there_ was someone who knew how to have some fun. Still, he found himself drawn to the second figure, a regal man with haughty features and a wealth of dark hair pulled back into a loose tail. There was a smile on his face, too, though it seemed more tired than joyous. And his eyes… There was something familiar about those eyes and the way they pierced the viewer...

Reyes and Morrison both let him study the picture for a long moment before he realized it. “This… This is the guy from last night?” he hazarded, looking up. “Which would make the other fella…”

Reyes nodded in approval. “Hanzo and Genji Shimada, respectively. The newest head of the empire and his brother. And currently, guests in our medbay.”

Jesse’s eyes grew wide at that. “Holy shit. What the fuck happened, then?” Reyes scowled at him for a second before apparently deciding to call him on his language was a waste of both time and energy. Morrison coughed and covered his mouth and Reyes turned the glare on the Strike Commander who just ignored it in favor of continuing on with the briefing.

“We don’t know. That’s why you’re here,” Morrison said, turning his attention to Jesse. “The older boy’s been non-responsive beyond simple questions, and since you’re close to him in age, we’re hoping he might open up to someone he sees as a peer.”

“Uh… That sounds like a longshot.” It slipped out, and there was another cough from Morrison while Reyes’ scowl deepened.

“It is, but right now it’s what we’ve got,” Reyes growled. “Is that clear, McCree?”

Jesse ducked his head in apology. “Yessir,” he said as meekly as he could manage. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a quick grin flash across the Strike Commander’s face. Was he laughing at Reyes? Lord he hoped so. “If I can ask one question?”

Reyes looked about ready to throw him out of his office, but he sighed and nodded. “Make it quick.”

“How _is_ his brother? If he asks?” Jesse was more than a little worried about that. If Shimada was responsible for the mess last night… He really didn’t want to see what would happen if he carried bad news to him.

Morrison answered. “He’s alive and stable but unconscious. It’ll take a while and a few million dollars worth of cybernetics, but Dr. Ziegler assures me that he’ll live.”

Jesse gulped at that. “A few _million_?” Would Overwatch even be willing to foot that bill? He could see several government people being upset about that. Morrison just shrugged and smiled that dazzling moviestar grin of his. 

“There’s a couple of funds that’ve been piling up without going anywhere useful. I don’t think anyone will mind if I redirect them to actually save a life for once,” he said with a wink as he breezed past him towards the door. Jesse blinked at his retreating back, feeling as though he’d missed something.

“Boss?”

“Yes, Jesse?”

“Did you know that he was like that?”

“... Just get to fucking work, Jesse.”

oOo

 

Jesse hated the medbay. No offense to Mercy, but the place smelled like chemicals and reminded him of the last week he had with his ma. But the medbay was where his target was, and so he went. He tipped his hat in hello to the angel herself, who was practically asleep over her notes. He slipped her a cookie _definitely_ not stolen from Ana’s stash hidden in one of the supply closets. A quick glance over the screen by her elbow told him Shimada was in one of the back rooms, tucked safely under guard where it was unlikely anything could happen.

Of course, after last night, Jesse was just about ready for anything.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response. Fine. He’d expected that after what Morrison had said. Jesse opened the door quietly and ducked inside. Shimada was on the bed, and Jesse’s heart twisted in sympathy as he saw just _fragile_ the man looked. He was paler than in the picture, his hair in a dark tangle around his head. But, as he turned to see who was intruding, Jesse was once again arrested by those dark eyes, still just as empty as they had been the night before. 

Jesse shook himself as he realized he was staring. Right. He was here for a reason. Information. And there was really only one way to do that in the face of such hopeless. 

Be as goddamned charming as he fucking could be.

He took a deep breath and plunked himself down in the visitor’s chair, tipping his hat in greeting. “Well howdy there! You must be Hanzo, right? I’m Jesse McCree, your liaison for the while! I ain’t gonna say it’s a pleasure, because after last night I’m gonna guess that nothing’s really a pleasure at the moment.” He aimed his most disarming smile at Hanzo. Who continued to just look at him. Okay then. Jesse frowned thoughtfully. This was going to be tricky. Wait. Could he speak English? Surely Reyes would’ve warned him…

“Uh… Can you understand me or do I gotta go grab a translator? Because my Japanese is utter _shit_. I understand it okay, but I have been told my accent is an affront to literally every decent person.” Jesse watched Hanzo closely. If he’d blinked he would’ve missed it, but there was the tiniest smile before the man actually _nodded_ with a spark in his eyes. Good. He could understand and wasn’t quite as dead inside as he appeared.

“Okay, I’m gonna be honest, I’m supposed to ask you all sorts of questions about last night?” he started, and once again in a lightning flash, he saw the light dim on his face. “Buuuut you clearly don’t want to talk about that at the moment, _so_! Uh…” Okay, McCree think… “Do _you_ have any questions?”

Hanzo was quiet for long enough that Jesse thought this was probably a dead end, too, but as he wracked his brain for another approach a soft voice almost completely at odds with the desperate, hoarse speech from the night before sounded. “My brother… Is there any news?”

Jesse did a silent, mental cheer at the progress of conversation. “Yeah, actually! He’s gonna live! It’s gonna take a lot, and there’s talk of cybernetics, but he’ll pull through.”

Hanzo practically sagged with palpable relief suffused on his face, the first _real_ expression Jesse’d seen from the man. “I had not dared to hope…” he whispered, almost to himself.

“He’s in the best of care!” Jesse added. “Dr. Ziegler’s a bonafide miracle worker! A regular angel, she is!”

“I owe her my thanks,” Hanzo said, pushing his hair out of his face. Jesse ducked his gaze just long enough to avoid being caught staring again. “And you… You were the man from… After? The one who called them?”

Jesse scratched the back of his head, looking away. “Y-yeah. That was me,” he answered, hoping Hanzo wouldn’t ask _why_ he’d shown up.

“Thank you,” came that quiet voice. Jesse found his gaze drawn back, and he was hooked. He could still see the hallmarks of pride etched into his face, but his eyes. _Oh_ his eyes… There was light shining there, the emptiness receding, if only for a moment. Jesse thought he could drown in their expressions. 

He mentally slapped himself. Reasons. Work. Professional. Reyes was going to kill him if he fucked this up. But Reyes was smarter than he let on. Maybe he’d understand if Jesse did this delicately, because he couldn’t push him. Not after seeing a bit of life return. He’d done enough killing lately that he wanted to save a life if he could. Reyes probably would be okay with that. Hell, Reyes himself had done it.

And if he got to spend a little more time looking into those eyes, that’d be nice too.


	2. Shuttered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse begins his investigation.

Reyes was surprisingly open to the idea that Jesse handle their new guest/suspect with a gentle touch. 

“Do you think it’s the best strategy to get the info we need?” he’d asked, a hint of amusement on his craggy face. “You’re one of my agents, McCree. I trust your judgement on this.”

That simple statement set a fire in Jesse’s soul, pride and determination burning through him with a will. He had always planned on doing his job, but hearing that Gabriel fucking _Reyes_ trusted him? Well, damn! He was going to do the best fucking job he could!

There was just one problem with that. And his name was Hanzo Shimada.

It wasn’t that the man was particularly obstinate-- though Jesse had the sense that he could be if he were so inclined, the man was the heir to a criminal empire after all-- but he was barely responsive. Sometimes Jesse got the feeling he was speaking to a living doll, a thought that set his skin to crawling. It didn’t help that he was still confined to his bed until Angela figured out what had happened to him.

Aside from the conversation they had during the first interview, Jesse found pulling responses from Hanzo was like pulling teeth. He’d have worried that Hanzo wasn’t fully there in mind save for two things; Hanzo asked about his brother once a day, and his eyes still followed Jesse’s awkward ramblings.

Jesse found himself getting used to the miniscule expressions Hanzo made. There was a little line between his eyes that grew deeper when told there was little change in his brother’s condition. If Jesse tried to broach the topic of the night they’d found him, Hanzo’s face went blank of even the tiniest tells. Jesse worried about that; he’d tried to be as gentle as he could, but Hanzo didn’t react outside of shutting down. As much as Jesse didn’t want to hurt him, the higher ups’ patience would run out.

After all, murder had been committed, and even if the victims were members of a criminal empire, murder was still wrong. Or so Jesse had been told. He was a little fuzzy on that still. Blackwatch had some conflicting messages there.

And as far as messages went, this case, Jesse’s case, was pretty confusing on its own. There had been enough evidence of nine people in the room at the time of what Jesse dubbed the “Fuckening,” but only the Shimada brothers had been found alive, or technically alive in Genji’s case, poor bastard. A single weapon, a katana, had been recovered, but there was so much blood in the room it was impossible to tell who had wielded it, and there were no clear fingerprints. The medical report suggested that it might have dealt the blow that nearly rent Genji Shimada in half, but from the sheer amount of damage, it was difficult to tell. Hanzo had no visible injuries, but his body had been weakened. Angela said it mirrored a stress episode, albeit an extremely severe one. What had brought that kind of stress on was one more mystery in the pile, and Hanzo wouldn’t talk. And as for what had torn the remaining seven victims into bite-sized chunks….? Not even their top forensic guys had a clue.

All the evidence piled up to mostly nothing, but there was one pretty clear line of thought from everyone Jesse spoke to. Hanzo was the number one suspect. Well, the only suspect, considering his brother was unconscious and hooked to enough monitors to furnish a Radio Shack.

But Jesse wasn’t sold on Hanzo’s guilt. He couldn’t explain it, dreaded the day when he’d have to go to Reyes’ office and tell him he had nothing except a gut feeling. A gut feeling Reyes would rightfully question unless Jesse could get some stronger information.

And he needed it quickly. 

Jesse paused outside the door to Hanzo’s little guarded room in the medbay and took a deep breath. He barely registered the scent of chemicals and cleaners at this point, a sign that he was spending way too much time in this part of the base. Today was the day; he needed either a confession or an alibi, and as much as he didn’t want to hurt the man while he was already clearly down, he was an agent of Blackwatch. Professional. Remorseless.

He knocked on the door and entered before he could lose his nerve. 

“Alright, I know this is gonna be difficult, Hanzo, but I’ve got t-- Oh… shit…”

The room was awash in a blue glow, like electricity but sharper, actively seeking for release.The light writhed around the room, something trying to take shape and frustrated by its failure. And all of it centered around the bed in the center, its occupant tossing and turning, caught in the grips of some unknown nightmare.

It was too close to the light that had torn apart the Shimada shrine, and Jesse reached to his hip holster on reflex. Terror clawed at his throat, choking his words into nothing. He backed away, a voice in his head screaming to get back up, but his legs were frozen in place. 

“H-ha… Hanzo…” he stammered into the deafening silence that threatened to consume him. The light halted at his breath, and Jesse had the most uncomfortable sensation of being watched. The light gathered, and he could almost feel it focusing on him. It rushed forward into him before he could scream. It held him there, trapped under its weight. Why was light so heavy? He could feel it sifting through every ounce of his soul, and he shook under its scrutiny. It felt like fingers in his mind, digging through his checkered past and studying every sordid detail. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to cry in shame.

And then it was gone.

The light retracted, flowing out of him and back into Hanzo, who somehow had slept through an event that Jesse was pretty sure stole several years of his life. The glow faded, the wind stopped, and Jesse was left standing in the doorway of a perfectly ordinary hospital room.

Hanzo stirred, murmuring something too low to understand, shaking Jesse from his impression of a mannequin. 

“Agent McCree…?” 

His voice was quiet, uncertain and shaking, but it was filled with more life than anything Jesse had heard from him before. Hanzo sat up, blinking blearily around the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. His brow furrowed in confusion, but there was a sense of clarity finally shining in his dark eyes. Jesse’s heart leapt into his throat as those eyes fixed upon him, and the sense of being weighed once more crept across his skin. 

They looked back at each other, agent and criminal scion, both unsure what to say. Hanzo frowned and opened his mouth, but whatever words he had died at the sound of a knock at the door. 

Jesse jumped and opened the door, grateful for an intervention from weirdness. Angela stuck her head into the room, a relieved expression on her weary face. 

“Pardon me, Agent McCree, but Mr. Shimada’s brother is awake and alert,” she said gently. She turned to Hanzo and smiled, at odds with the heavy circles under her eyes. “He is asking for you.”

 

Jesse had once thought Hanzo capable of stubbornness. He had been correct, but now he discovered just how correct he’d been. Hanzo was still too weak to walk the entire distance to the room holding his brother. Angela called for a wheelchair, but Hanzo was clearly impatient. There was a determined set to his jaw, and Jesse was fully confident that he’d crawl all the way to his brother’s side if he had to.

In the end, it took both Jesse and Angela blocking the door to keep Hanzo from simply barreling down the hallway with the most regally urgent bearing Jesse had ever seen in a nearly invalid man. Even once the chair was acquired and Jesse was rolling him down the hallway, Hanzo gripped the arms of the chair as though he would launch himself free at his first opportunity. Judging from the way Angela watched him like she was ready to grab him, she noticed his tension as well. 

At long last, they reached the door to the room containing the remaining Shimada sibling. Jesse tipped his hat to the agent standing guard at the door as Angela keyed in the unlocking code. The door swung open with a gentle hiss, and the first thing Jesse registered was a chorus of whirrs and beeps. 

Hanzo made a sound too soft to be a word, and Jesse’s heart twisted as he caught sight of the naked pain on the man’s face. He stood back as Hanzo forced himself up and lurched over to Genji’s bed. 

Jesse had read the reports, but it was still startling to see the sheer amount of reconstruction Genji Shimada had needed to survive. Morrison had said it’d take millions of dollars worth of equipment, and looking at the figure, Jesse believed him. It was enthralling, in a strange way, to see the circuits and gleaming plates mix with living flesh. It was beautiful, but wrong in a way he couldn’t explain. Jesse hid a shiver as a hint of uncomfortable thought ghosted through him. 

“Genji…” Hanzo breathed, his hand twitching on the bedrail as though he wasn’t certain if his touch would be welcome. Genji remained still, and if it weren't for the way his gaze was fixed firmly on his brother, he could have been mistaken for sleeping. Jesse’s eyes narrowed, a voice that sounded like Reyes whispering suspiciously in the back of his head. Why would Hanzo be afraid to comfort his brother? There was guilt in his eyes, carried in the weight over his shoulders. But what was the guilt for? 

Genji murmured something in Japanese, low and guarded, watching his brother with a wariness Jesse tended to associate with betrayal. With a bit of guilt himself, Jesse turned to the side and turned on his earpiece’s translator as casually as he could manage. It felt wrong to eavesdrop on a private conversation, but he was still an agent of Blackwatch. He still had a job to do.

_“Tell me the truth, brother,”_ Genji was saying. _“Did you know?”_

_“No!”_ The word exploded from Hanzo’s lips, and the bedrail practically squeaked under his tight grip. _“I swear to you, by what little honor our name has left, I had no idea! If I had… I should have. It was obvious in hindsight. Genji… I…”_ He hung his head, shoulders shaking, and Jesse lowered his gaze before he could see the tears fall. 

_“I should have protected you. I’m sorry… I am so sorry.”_

Hanzo’s voice broke on a sob, and Jesse decided Hanzo was either a brilliant actor, or else he was truly innocent of the attack on his brother. But as for the rest…

_“Hanzo,”_ Genji said softly. There was a whirr and a click, and an unsteady hand reached up to clumsily rest on his brother's. Hanzo tensed for a moment, but he gripped the hand carefully. Jesse turned off the translator and stepped out of the room. Best to give them their moment.

He passed the time chatting with Genji’s guard and Angela. There wasn’t anything they could tell him that he didn’t already know, but it didn’t hurt to check. Besides, he had a feeling that he might be able to get Hanzo to talk soon. And if not, he could sweet talk Angela into letting him question Genji.

The door finally opened. Hanzo stood just beyond. 

“Ah, Dr…. Ziegler? My brother is asleep.” He looked weary, but there was a quiet sense of ease about him.

Angela straightened and nodded before walking into the room to double-check the equipment, or so Jesse assumed. 

“Agent McCree?”

Jesse turned his gaze from the room towards his charge. Hanzo seemed to take that as permission to continue. “Your duty is to hear my testimony, yes?”

“That would be correct,” Jesse said cautiously. Maybe seeing his brother made it easier to talk? Or the blue light? No. No, Jesse didn’t want to think too deeply on that one. He just needed to accept that Hanzo was ready to talk.

“Very well. I shall tell you everything I remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the delay! I've had some family/work stuff and haven't had much time to write!
> 
> I know this chapter is short, but I'm hoping I can get the next one out sooner rather than later!
> 
> Thanks for reading and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo tells the truth. It's not pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence and murder in this one. 
> 
> (also I'm aliiiiive!)

Hanzo was a storm inside of serenity, anxiety clawing at his stomach while his face betrayed nothing as he waited for the rest of the clan elders in the shrine. They had called this meeting, practically ordered him to attend despite his supposed position as their lord. _They_ don’t want a lord, he thought for the hundredth time since his father’s death, watching his uncle Takeshi’s vacantly pleasant face next to him. _They want a puppet._

He contained a snarl at that thought; they wanted to cage a dragon. To clip its wings and make it dance. And they might succeed, but only if Hanzo allowed it. And for the sake of the family, he knew he’d allow anything. And he knew _they_ knew. He was trapped, bound by duty and honor.

His inner turmoil froze as the rest of the family heads filed in, carrying a large bundle with them. His heart sank, then plummeted as the guards deposited their burden at his feet with little ceremony. The package groaned in a voice he knew well, and ice began to cover his limbs as dread slunk through him. 

His uncle reached forward with an expression of almost paternal concern, ripping the back off their prisoner’s face. _Genji_.

Hanzo forced his hands to stay still, knowing that the weight of the clan’s eyes were on him. The storm inside roiled beneath his skin, rage tightening the corners of his eyes as he took in the bruises and gag on his brother’s face. He hadn’t just been struck once or twice; he’d been _beaten_.

His uncle, apparently the designated spokesperson for this little family reunion, took that small sign of anger with a pleased smile. “He was warned, by you and us. You were too,” he said with little preamble and a pointed look at Hanzo. Not that he needed either; Hanzo was well aware of the litany of Genji’s sins and mistakes. After all, Hanzo had born the brunt of the blame for them since childhood.

Genji looked up at him, defiance still a green spark in his eyes despite the bruises and fear on his face. Hanzo’s heart twisted. Getting his little brother out of this one was going to be much more of a challenge. “Where was he this time?” he forced himself to ask.

“Partying with the Nakamura heir and cohorts,” said one of his aunts, a look of distaste plain on her regal face. “High enough that he could have told them _everything_ they ever wanted to know and never remember it.”

Hanzo felt his jaw clench. This was more than a step across the line; this was a _flying leap_. And from the sheer lack of shame in Genji’s posture? He knew it.

There was no getting him out of this one. Hanzo knew it, saw it written on his entire family’s face as his eyes went from aunt to uncle to cousin. His eyes stopped on Takeshi, only now taking in the sheathed sword at his side. Takeshi never carried a sword… Unless…

His mouth went dry, and the air went deathly still around him. Or perhaps just for him? It seemed as though the world ground to a halt, yet no one reacted. Takeshi simply removed the sword from its sheath and handed it, hilt first, to the head of the Shimada Empire. To Hanzo.

Takeshi’s face was one of many regrets and sorrows, and each of them was an act. Hanzo did not move to take the sword.

“My lord, I am sorry, but he’s a danger to us. To _you_. And for the sake of the clan’s honor, we _must_ beseech you to do your duty.” Takeshi still held the weapon to him.

“Genji is still a Shimada, and a bearer of a dragon,” Hanzo said, his voice sounding far away to his ears. He could not take his eyes from his brother’s. Genji pleaded with him over the gag in his mouth. Hanzo couldn’t deny that Genji was a threat to the clan’s security, but this… This….

This was his _brother_.

“And a terrible blow his loss will be,” said a cousin, a snivelling creature that had somehow wormed his way into the family through marriage. “But we can’t have him telling our enemies every little secret we have just because they give him a thrill and they had a pretty face!”

Hanzo couldn’t breathe. The air was heavy, pressing down on him as much as his father’s expectations ever had. If only Sojiro were here… He would have been able to stop this! Right?

“Surely, there must be some other way,” Hanzo tried, his voice ringing with an authority he wasn’t certain he’d ever truly held. “You cannot ask me to kill my brother.”

“The head of the family has done worse in the past,” Takeshi said gently, almost philosophically. “It is a heavy task, but it is for the honor of our family name.” He pressed the hilt into Hanzo’s hand. The storm grew, and he could hear the hissing of his dragons on the imagined wind. 

The honor of the Shimada name. Everything he had been trained for since birth to uphold. It was his duty. He had to. His father had built him to be everything the clan had ever needed, from a weapon to a leader. But Genji. His brother, his Sparrow. Despite their fights later in life, Genji had always been his family, been his best friend and the one person Hanzo could trust. 

Memories of long conversations and meetings with his father warred with ones of his brother, pranks and fights and drinking on the roof under moonlight. If the clan and his father had been the foundation of his life, then Genji had been Hanzo’s soul. He looked down the blade at his brother’s face, eyes wide with tears streaming down his bloodied cheeks.

The sword clattered to the wooden floor, echoing in the silent chamber. It was almost louder than the single word that forced its way up through Hanzo’s throat on the wings of the storm just waiting to ignite.

“No.”

Takeshi merely looked disappointed, resigned. As if Hanzo had refused to attend a social gathering of peers rather instead of refusing to commit fratricide. The man sighed, almost looking his age for once. “Restrain him,” he said, bending to retrieve the sword. “It is for the best, my lord. You’ll see.”

The almost forgotten bodyguards grabbed Hanzo from behind, yanking him back away from his brother. He struggled, breaking free for one brief moment of hope before he was unceremoniously dog-piled and buried beneath the bulk of five of his family’s henchmen. He continued fighting, snarling with rage as the storm inside began to crackle along his skin.

Time stretched elastic as an otherworldly wind began to roar in Hanzo’s ears, showing him each vivid second as it burned into his memory.

Takeshi raised the sword above Genji. Hanzo’s heart stopped. Genji whimpered through the gag. The sword glinted as it sang through the air before biting into the flesh of his brother’s neck and shoulder. Blood splashed to the floor, a crimson stain spreading and soaking into the wood. His brother toppled to his side, far too still.

The meaty thump of his brother’s corpse hitting the floor signalled the storm raging throughout Hanzo’s body to burst forth. He howled in rage and grief as the wind became real. Lightning flashed and roared, twisting through the assembled Shimada family with a voracious fury.   
The Shimada dragons were not just a symbol, after all.

Abruptly released by his captors as they fell to the storm dragons’ maws, Hanzo collapsed to the ground. The dying screams of his aunts and uncles barely registered, as he scrambled to his brother’s unmoving side and gathered him into his arms. 

The fading green light of his brother’s own dragon met him, and hope burned painful and bright. If Genji’s dragon still burned, then there was still a chance to save him! Hanzo grit his teeth and called out to his dragons, still circling the room in unending wrath. He begged them to help, to bind his brother to life just long enough. Just until he could get him somewhere… Somewhere safe. 

The dragons acquiesced, diving into his brother’s still-warm body, mixing blue with green. The storm faded, leaving the room still, bloody, and cold.


	4. Opened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conclusion, of sorts. And maybe a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper shout out to the WIP Big Bang for making me finish this!!! And an amazingly stupendous shoutout to Amberdreams for making some awesome art for this fic!!!!!!
> 
> I'll post that here as soon as I can!

“The last thing I remember is you walking in,” Hanzo said, sagging back into his chair. Jesse didn’t blame him; after all, it couldn’t be easy recounting your brother’s almost murder at the hands of people who raised you to a couple of foreign agents in a hospital room. 

Though, he had to admit as he studied him, Hanzo still managed to hold some pride in his bearing. Not quite the haughty prince Jesse was certain the heir to the Shimadas would be, but still. He was almost regal, a power that was contained but not diminished. 

“So,” Reyes drawled from his corner, startling Jesse from what was probably rather unprofessional staring. He’d almost forgotten the commander was in the room. “You’re expecting us to believe that ‘dragons’ tore those people apart.”

“It is the truth,” Hanzo said, implacable in the face of Reyes’ skeptical stare. “Whether or not you believe me is up to you. Sir.”

Jesse had to forcibly keep his eyebrows from rising. Reyes didn’t tolerate lip-- much. Jesse himself was one of the few who got away with it _on occasion_. He glanced at his commander and was surprised to see a hint of amusement in his craggy face.

“Shit, kid. You’ve given us a real mess here,” he said, standing and stretching with almost impertinent casualness. “Half the leadership of the Shimada-gumi is scattered into bits and pieces. We’ve just barely managed to save your brother _and_ you, and don’t bother pretending that your hands are squeaky clean… And now you’re telling me you both have supernatural dragons at your beck and call.”

Hanzo didn’t answer. He kept his dark eyes fixed on Reyes with all the warmth and give of solid stone. Jesse bit his lip against a grin. Dragons or no, Hanzo had some balls on him to try and give Gabriel fucking Reyes that look.

Reyes fell silent, studying at Hanzo with just as much intensity. Jesse was reminded of a couple of feral cats he’d seen just before a fight. All stillness and staring before fur started flying.

Suddenly Reyes leaned back with a laugh that made Jesse near jump out of his skin. “Alright, fine. Here’s the deal, kid. I like you. You’ve got guts. And speaking of, you and your little brother owe us about five hundred million bucks for the cybernetics we’re using to keep him together. Since the only other option is to throw you two into max security for the rest of your lives, I’m giving you a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

The hair on the back of Jesse’s neck prickled and he ducked his head to hide a grin. He’d heard this particular speech before.

Hanzo, on the other hand, sat ramrod straight, wary.

“As of now, consider yourself on notice,” Reyes continued, ignoring his agent’s smothered snort. “You’ve just been drafted, effective as soon as I get Morrison’s signature. Same goes for your brother.”

Hanzo blinked, clearly shocked. “Are you… Blackmailing me into joining Overwatch?”

Reyes barked another laugh. “Overwatch? Hell no! What are they going to do with you? I’m bringing you on to Blackwatch!” He turned on his heels and walked out of the room, still laughing and leaving Hanzo gaping at the space he’d emptied.

Jesse cleared his throat, flushing as those dark eyes slid to meet his. It was easier to focus on them rather than the hint of blue beginning to circle Hanzo’s neck. “Ah, yeah. So…. That happened.”

“I don’t suppose I’ve a choice?” Hanzo asked dryly as the blue began to almost solidify into some sort of crawling shape before flickering out. Was that…. Jesse shook himself internally. He’d ask about it later. Right now there was probably a mound of paperwork Reyes was gonna throw at him.

“Not unless you want to spend the rest of your life behind bars,” Jesse said cheerfully. “Don’t worry. It worked out for me.”

“For you?” Jesse chose to not take offense at the incredulous nature of that question.

“Yup.” He finally let himself grin, all tooth and charm. “Welcome to Blackwatch, Hanzo.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by McHanzo Week 2017, which is what I'm posting it for, but I'm hoping I'll be able to crack out more chapters afterwards.


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